Remember
by TB's LMC
Summary: Three months after Jeff's tragic death, Scott Tracy finds himself overburdened by the cares of Tracy Corporation and International Rescue, not to mention his four brothers' states of mind. He feels lost. He feels alone. He talks to his father.


_Author's Note: Josh Groban owns the song "Remember Me" and Granada owns "Thunderbirds." I'm just putting the two together for a moment._

**REMEMBER**

I don't want you to be gone. I keep thinking I'll look out the windows and see Tracy One headed this way. Hear your voice come over the airwaves requesting permission to land. I keep thinking you're coming back, Dad. It's so empty here now. You're gone, and I'm left to pick up the pieces. All I have are the memories. But what I really need, is you.

_Remember, I will still be here  
As long as you hold me, in your memory_

I sit behind your desk, staring at the row of portraits. This must have been how you felt whenever we were out. Wondering if we'd return safely. How _did_ you feel, Dad? It was your dream, International Rescue. The companies, all of us working here together like this – it was your dream. And it became ours. We lived it every single day. We're still living it, but it seems somehow…less than what it used to be when you were still here. Like the dream is over. For all of us.

We're going on blindly, Father. Keeping it alive for you. But you've been gone three months now. Three long months. And it's still so raw.

_Remember, when your dreams have ended  
Time can be transcended  
Just remember me_

Everywhere I turn, there you are. I feel you most of all here behind your desk. Your Study…nobody's gone in there since you died, I don't think. We can't. I mean, we all knew you wouldn't live forever, right? But for you to go like you did…it was wrong. It was wrong! First Mom and now…now this…

The sun is starting to come up. I remember we both used to get up early, leftover curse of being in the military. And sometimes we'd find ourselves standing out here on the balcony with our coffee watching the sunrise together. We never said much. I regret that so much now, Dad. I regret not saying more. Not telling you what you meant.

I remember Mom saying, watch for the last star when sun's rising, Scotty. Watch, because that's someone who loves you very much watching over you. After she died, I would look for that star, and I would always think it was her. Now, as the colors come over the horizon, as the first rays of the sun hit me, I see that star. It's to the right there, to the right of the sun. Can you see it, Dad? You used to. We'd look for it together, you and me. Would it be this star? That star? We'd watch, just like Mom and I used to watch.

One by one they'd fade. One by one. Until there was only one left. And slowly, that would fade, too. Is it you, Dad?

_I am the one star that keeps burning, so brightly,  
It is the last light, to fade into the rising sun_

It just seems so wrong. You were here for seventy years. Here to be a son, a husband, a father, a grandfather…and the greatest benefactor this world has ever known. But half of your life stands untold. Our secret keeps us from shouting to the world who Jeff Tracy _really_ was. The father of the Tracy family? Yes, of course.

But also the father of International Rescue.

I can pass it along to my son. My son who is five now and probably won't remember you. I see you every time I look into his eyes. I tell him, Dad. I tell him all about you, about what kind of father you were, what kind of Air Force man you were. How you went to the Moon, how you held every one of us in the palm of your hand. I used to find that restricting.

Now I spend my days wishing that hand still held me.

I won't let you fade, Father. I won't let you go that easily. Nobody's talking about you, at least, not to each other. It's like Mom all over again. But I tell little Grant, Dad. He will grow up knowing my father. His Grandpa. He _will_. Because so much of you is in him.

_I'm with you  
Whenever you tell my story  
For I am all I've done_

I guess I'm only just now realizing that every step I took, every move I made in life was meant not only for me, not only because it was something I wanted to do, but for you. To live up to the standards you set for us. That Mom set for us. To be everything I could, everything you could ever want in your oldest son.

Yes, I had started taking everything over already. In fact, I guess I'd pretty much been running International Rescue for a year or so before you left us. And John's been handling the business, for the most part. But that isn't the point, Dad. We may have been making the decisions, but we knew you were there. Whether we wanted you there or not, at times, whether we wanted your input or not, Dad, we always listened. Always. You were wise. You were the wind at our backs.

But now, that wind blows cold.

_I am the one voice in the cold wind, that whispers  
And if you listen, you'll hear me call across the sky_

Sometimes I think I hear your voice. The klaxon rings, there's an emergency and I run in here expecting to see you sitting there with all the details and a plan of action already formulating. I know it was hard for you to start letting _me_ do all the planning, all the leading. But you did, Father, and I never respected you more than I did when you turned to me that day, on the Aussie oil rig rescue, you turned to me and said, "Scott, what's the action?"

Everyone was there. I remember just thinking, I can't believe he's letting me have it. I looked at my brothers, and I could tell they were thinking it, too. From there on out, you never questioned me. You counseled and advised, but never second-guessed.

You were my rock. But now I feel like I'm just leaning against thin air.

_As long as I still can reach out, and touch you  
Then I will never die_

I remember the last time you came back from England. You and Penny were going on another cruise, this time headed to South America. There were some potential business interests, you said, and Virg and I laughed. We knew why you were going. And then a week later when you had the jet packed up, I stood down on the tarmac with you. Stood there as you performed your pre-flight, as you checked every inch of the plane like a master. Like I do.

I learned from the best. But sometimes our best just isn't good enough, is it, Dad?

"Well, son, take care and tell Grant his Grandpa will call him as soon as we're on board."

"Yeah, he was a little miffed you were going on a 'big boat' without him, wasn't he?"

You chuckled. That laugh of yours I'll never hear again. "He reminds me so much of you. Has to know everything that's going on. Won't take no for an answer. Can't pull the wool over that one's eyes."

You turned and looked back at the jet before facing me again. "You used to have your mother in fits with it. You would not be silenced until you felt we'd given you the true and honest answer to every damn question."

We laughed together. I was surprised when I suddenly found you right in front of me, felt your arms wrap around me.

"I love you, son."

Words not often spoken. Conveyed, expressed in other ways. But not very often given voice.

"I love you, too, Dad," I replied. "Have fun."

And I stood there and watched you sail off into the sky.

And watched the jet explode.

_Remember, I'll never leave you  
If you will only  
Remember me_

I can't help it now, standing here as the sun rises before me. Can't help the tears that stream down my face. That last star is fading, Father. Fading to blend in with the others. With the other souls who have come and gone. In the sky where you died.

I'm surprised by the sound of footsteps and turn just in time to see Grant running at me full-bore. He leaps into my arms and wraps his arms around my neck.

"Hi, Daddy!" he says, his smile…God, his smile reminds me of yours, Father. Then his face puckers. He looks so much like Alan with that face. "Daddy, why are you crying?"

I'd forgotten. I try to smile as I wipe my face with my arm. "I'm okay, Grant."

"But why, Daddy?"

"I miss your Grandpa, son. I miss him a lot."

"Me, too, Daddy," he says, laying his head on my shoulder. We're quiet for a moment as I just hold him, and think this must've been what it was like when you held me. Then his voice comes again, so softly I can barely hear him. "But he's not really gone, Daddy."

I don't know what to say. You _are_ gone, Father. You are. You're gone…

"What do you mean, Grant?"

He raises his head and looks at the horizon. His small arm raises and his finger points. My eyes follow. "See, Daddy? He's right there. Just like he said he'd be."

I look, and just above the horizon, is a star burning strong and steady even in the now-blue sky.

I turn to my son and smile, squeezing him so tight. "You're right, buddy. He _is_ there. Just like he said he'd be."

You must've told him the story, too. I'll remember, Father. In everything I am, everything I do. Every move my son makes. He's part of your legacy. As I look into his gray eyes, I know you'll always be remembered.

Always.

_Remember me  
Remember... me..._


End file.
